Crowley, Carolers, and a Cricket Bat
by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee
Summary: Crowley is a short-tempered fellow, one who hates Christmas with a passion. When Christmas carolers begin to show up on his street every day who can blame him for getting out the cricket bat and sending a few singers running in terror? Well, Aziraphale can blame him, and the bookish angel is not happy to be bailing his demon out of jail in Christmas Eve.


**Crowley Won't Be Home for Christmas…**

_Hi. This is Anthony Crowley. Uh, I'm probably not in right now, or asleep, and busy, or something, but leave a message after the tone and I'll get right back to you. Maybe. If I feel like it. Angel, wait until the beep to talk, I only get half the message if you're yelling at the recording. Ciao ~ _

***BEEP***

"Crowley, dear boy, try to answer your phone once and awhile, I am convinced that these ansaphone things are an invention from _your side. _Not to mention they are rather off-putting. Now, I expect you at my place for Christmas Eve. Do not be late, and try not to do anything horrid to the neighbors' Christmas trees this year. You may call it whatever heathen name you want to, but Christmas is still one of _my _holidays, and you will celebrate it with me this year. Is that clear?

"Oh, and try to bring something edible this year. Last year's microwavable turducken was in rather poor taste, dear. I know you can cook, all the good artists seem rather attached to _your side_, after all."

***BEEP* **

* * *

_You have reached the voicemail of: __**My name's Aziraphale, why is this device talking to me-?**__ Please leave a message after the beep. _

"Hey, Angel, quit sending bloody Christmas carolers around to my neighborhood. All that nonsense about 'peace on earth' and 'good will toward men' is giving my plants…_ideas. _I want them _terrified, _not shining with hope and joy and all that stuff. And the shodding singing nuisances are too far away from the building for me to dump water on them. What's the point of having pedestrians if they aren't close enough to terrorize?

"Get them out of my neighborhood. Now.

"Ciao."

***BEEP* **

* * *

_Hi. This is Anthony Crowley. Uh, I'm probably not in right now, or asleep, and busy, or something, but leave a message after the tone and I'll get right back to you. Maybe. If I feel like it. Angel, wait until the beep to talk, I only get half the message if you're yelling at the recording. Ciao ~ _

***BEEP***

"My dear Crowley, it is hardly my fault that the excess of Christmas spirit is influencing others toward acts of kindness and generosity. I find it quite sweet. You are always complaining that humans waste their creativity. Well, here they are, using their artistic talents to spread joy and cheer.

"Play nice with the other children and try not to terrorize too many innocents, people _or _plants. I'll see you on Christmas Eve. Oh no, you are no slithering out of this one, my dear."

***BEEP* **

* * *

_You have reached the voicemail of: __**My name's Aziraphale, why is it talking to me-?**__ Please leave a message after the beep. _

***BEEP* **

"THESE GOD-BLESSED CHRISTMAS CAROLERS ARE DRIVING ME UP THE WALL! That's it, I can't stand this anymore; a plant gets it! Now where's the cement and the trash can? I saw this thing on the history channel on mafia killings…

"Angel, if you know what's good for this less-than-impressive hydrangea, YOU WILL CALL OFF THE CHRISTMAS CAROLERS. Now. Or the plant gets cement shoes and a long trip to the bottom of the duck pond…"

***BEEP***

* * *

_Hi. This is Anthony Crowley. Uh, I'm probably not in right now, or asleep, and busy, or something, but leave a message after the tone and I'll get right back to you. Maybe. If I feel like it. Angel, wait until the beep to talk, I only get half the message if you're yelling at the recording. Ciao ~ _

***BEEP* **

"Crowley, dear, leave that plant alone, it has done absolutely nothing to deserve such rough treatment. Honestly, do we need to have another intervention? Clearly the flora-gardener counseling has not been helping…

"And for the last time, I did not send the Christmas carolers.

"Oh, and do remember to come this Christmas Eve, dear."

***BEEP* **

* * *

_You have reached the voicemail of: __**My name's Aziraphale, why is it talking to me-?**__ Please leave a message after the beep. _

***BEEP* **

"I can't take it anymore. One more rendition of _Little Drummer Boy _and I'm drumming on their skulls. With a cricket bat. Oh, wait, listen to that, Angel:

'_Come, they told me, par-rum-pa-pum-pum…' _

"This is the TWENTIETH BLOODY TIME THIS WEEK! I'm done. Where's my cricket bat…?"

***BEEP* **

* * *

_Hi. This is Anthony Crowley. Uh, I'm probably not in right now, or asleep, and busy, or something, but leave a message after the tone and I'll get right back to you. Maybe. If I feel like it. Angel, wait until the beep to talk, I only get half the message if you're yelling at the recording. Ciao ~ _

***BEEP* **

"Crowley? Crowley? CROWLEY YOU LEAVE THOSE CAROLERS ALONE! Oh, dear…"

***BEEP* **

* * *

_You have reached the voicemail of: __**My name's Aziraphale, why is it talking to me-?**__ Please leave a message after the beep. _

***BEEP* **

"Hullo, Zira… um, I mean Angel, I mean… yeah, that last one… huh. Your name's fun to say… _Azeeraaafalllleee. _Hee-hee. What was He _thinking? _Huh, wait, my name was Crawly, wasn't it? Hmm, I don't think that's much better… but now it's Crowley and it's all good. Crowley's a good name. Sexy. Like me. Oh, wait, I'm Crowley. Heehee. That explains a lot…

"Oh, yeah, why I'm calling. Um, yeah, well, the humans don't like it so much when some bloke with a cricket bat charges some Christmas carolers. I'm in prison. Or a psychiatric ward. Y'know, they make 'em really _similar. _I think it's just to confuse people…

"Oh, and I'm pretty sedated. It's fun. Like riding on a cloud, except funnier, cuz riding real clouds is pretty god-awful in real life. Can you come pick me up? I don't feel like being sober… oh, hey, they don't like that I broke out of my cell to call you. Oops. Bye-bye."

***BEEP* **

* * *

"_London Police Headquarters, how can I help you?" _

"Yes, well, my… friend did something rather foolish with a cricket bat. Could you be a dear and tell him that I'm on my way to pick him up and that he is being a complete twit? Thank you, you really are a lovely person. Happy Christmas.

"Oh, my name? Tell him Angel is coming. The last I heard he was a bit… sedated and most likely wouldn't be able to put the syllables of my full name together, poor dear. Yes, just Angel. No last name. Yes, he'll know exactly who I am. Angry? Do I sound angry? I'm a bit… tense, yes. And a fairly irritated. Or rather frustrated. Or very exasperated. Or incredibly, incandescently FURIOUS. Or annoyed. That works too.

"No, dear, there isn't anything else I would like you to tell him. Goodbye."

***click* **

* * *

**Author's Note: This is loosely based on the song "I Won't be Home for Christmas" by Blink182. It's a really funny song, check it out if you like irreverent Christmas music. I had originally meant for this fic to be shorter, but it got a bit bigger than I expected and here it is; a full-grown fic. There will be a Chapter Two, where Crowley and Aziraphale interact face-to-face. I used the ansaphones because they were so funny in the original book, and because the original thought behind this fic was 'Crowley's one phone call from jail' plus a Christmas twist. **

**If you read this PLEASE REVIEW! I love hearing from people. Merry Christmas!**


End file.
